Swear Not by the Moon…
by Celtic Knot
Summary: Major Sheppard has secrets that are alienating him from the rest of Atlantis. But when the team comes face–to–face with an odd alien legend, his situation takes a stunning downhill turn – the cause of which nobody could have guessed.
1. Prologue

**Swear Not by the Moon…**

Major John Sheppard stood on his favorite balcony on the edge of the city of Atlantis. There was not a breath of wind in the air, nor a cloud to obscure the stars. The vast, glassy ocean spread to the horizon in every direction, blending almost imperceptibly into the night sky reflected in it like a mirror. A thin crescent moon, barely even there, hung tentatively above the horizon, as if it was afraid to mount the heavens and shine in its full glory. It had been new last night, invisible to the eye.

It was this moon, once again slowly introducing itself to an alien sky, which captured John's attention and occupied his thoughts. It was an incredibly lonely sight: the only one of its kind, unfamiliar constellations above, cold, dark sea below. The small curve of dim light looked almost like a half-closed eye, staring into the water as if wishing it could jump in and drown.

John could certainly identify with that feeling. He had secrets, skeletons he'd kept hidden in his closet since he'd joined the expedition. It was a cycle, slower and as inevitable as the phases of the moon: he'd get an assignment, hide his story as long as he could, then, when it became too much to bear alone, tell someone he'd come to trust. Then he'd get reassigned, surrounded by new faces, and begin again. And every time, there was more to tell, deeper, darker secrets demanding to see daylight. It was emotionally exhausting.

But there was a problem, this time. His secrets were once again crying for release, and he didn't know whom to tell. He trusted many people with his life on a daily basis, but that was an entirely different matter. It had come to the point where he didn't feel that anyone could truly understand him unless they knew – but he couldn't tell them until they truly understood him. A neat little catch-22… and one that was slowly running him into the ground.

He sighed deeply. He knew how the other inhabitants of Atlantis saw him: sarcastic, irreverent, determined… passionate, trustworthy… but, as cliché as it sounded, there was so much more to him than that. And until he could make them see beneath the surface, see the man he _really _was, he would carry on alone, even if it killed him.

His closest kin was the tiny sliver of moon over the ocean.


	2. Chapter 1

Sheppard was the first to step through the Stargate onto M3X-666 (there had been any number of jokes and superstitions tossed around among the Earth contingent concerning the planet's designation, much to the confusion of the Athosians). It was late evening in this part of the planet; the air still retained the warmth and humidity of the day, but the sun had set and the sky was dark. In the mottled glow from the Stargate, he almost didn't see the streamers of light that swirled around him. In the seconds before the rest of his team arrived, they spiraled closer, closer… he couldn't be sure, but he thought he counted nine.

With startling suddenness, one of the lights split from the circle and darted through his chest. The others dispersed in the blink of an eye the instant Dr. Rodney McKay emerged from the event horizon, followed closely by Teyla and Lt. Aiden Ford. The 'Gate shut down behind them.

Still staring down at the spot where the glowing… _thing _had glided through him with nary a tingle to mark its passing, he asked incredulously, "McKay, did you see that!"

"See what? I didn't see anything… what happened?"

"Is something wrong, Major Sheppard?" Teyla asked, concerned.

Sheppard shook his head and looked up. Teyla had accidentally clobbered him in the temple during their sparring match yesterday afternoon, and he'd seen stars… his head still hurt, so it wasn't inconceivable that the light of the activated 'Gate had been playing tricks with his eyes. "Nah. Probably just my imagination," he said without conviction, but in a tone that left no room for argument. "Let's move out."

"The M.A.L.P. sent back images of a village just over that ridge," Ford said, pointing.

The landscape was surprisingly well illuminated, given the time of day. Sheppard looked up as they set off, and saw three full moons shining boldly on a backdrop liberally sprinkled with stars. The sight stood in stark contrast to the view from Atlantis last night, serving only to make Sheppard feel even more estranged – from his team, from this planet, from this entire goddamned galaxy.

Ten minutes' walking brought them to the edge of the village. A bonfire blazed merrily, and many people gathered around it, laughing, singing, dancing, and feasting in what was obviously a festival of some sort. One woman, an older, motherly lady, saw the four newcomers approaching and called out cheerfully over the music, "Welcome, strangers! Come, join us in our celebration!"

"Thank you, ma'am," Sheppard said, leading the team into the light of the fire.

He took a breath to introduce himself and his companions, but the woman cut him off with a startled cry. "Aurelius?" she gasped. She turned white, and clapped a hand over her mouth as she stumbled backward.

"No," Sheppard said slowly, a bit confused. "I'm Major John Sheppard. My friends here–" his voice caught a bit on the word. How could they really be his friends if he felt like such an outsider? "–are Teyla Emmagan, Lieutenant Aiden Ford, and Doctor Rodney McKay."

"I'm sorry," the woman apologized as she gradually regained her composure. "You look very much like my son, Major, and by firelight… Well, Aurelius died about nine years ago, and for a moment I thought you were his ghost."

There was a moment's uncomfortable silence, then the woman said, "Forgive me, I have not introduced myself. I am Dania, daughter of Ceila. Come, the Festival of the Full Moons has only just begun."

"'Festival of the Full Moons'?" Ford asked.

Dania looked at him oddly. "You do not celebrate the Full Moons?"

"We're not from around here," Sheppard explained. "We arrived through the Stargate." At her blank expression, he explained, "The big stone ring on the other side of that ridge?"

"Oh!" Dania exclaimed, understanding. "Yes. You are not our first… visitors… to come through Ratamah's Gate."

"The Wraith have been here?" Teyla demanded.

"According to legend," Dania said, "The Wraith were sent by Ratamah thousands of years ago to cull the sinners from the righteous. But she lost control of them, and they would have destroyed us all, had not Matah come through the Gate and stopped them."

Sheppard was staggered by the fact that the Wraith had left this planet alone long enough to pass into the realm of myth. "How…?"

McKay interrupted him with a slightly more intelligible question than the one the major had had in mind. "Who are Matah and Ratamah? What did Matah do to the Wraith?"

Dania half turned away from them and led them toward the festivities as she spoke. "The Triune Mother has three faces: Korah, the Virgin; Matah, the Mother; and Ratamah, the Crone. How Matah defeated Ratamah's Wraith demons is one of our great mysteries."

"But I thought they were the same…?" Ford said. "I'm confused."

"Maybe this 'Triune Mother' has multiple personalities," Sheppard muttered so Dania wouldn't hear.

"No, no, no, I've read about cultures like this," McKay said suddenly. "The Triple Goddess, Creator-Preserver-Destroyer. It's the oldest version of the Trinity. It got corrupted over time into the father-mother-son trinity – like Isis, Osiris, and Horus, which the Christians copied into Mary, Joseph, and Jesus – and finally into the all-male trinity, like the Christian Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Doctor Jackson would have a field day here!"

Ford and Sheppard stared at him.

McKay shrugged. "Mythology was a hobby of mine when I was a teenager."

"Doctor McKay is correct," Dania said. "The Triune Mother is indeed the Creator, Preserver, and Destroyer of this and all worlds. She is also a moon goddess. You can see–" she pointed to each of the three moons in turn, "–Korah, Matah, and Ratamah shining through the darkness of the night. We look at the moons and see the face of our Mother smiling upon us, and we celebrate the Full Moons because they represent the fullness of Her grace and love."

Sheppard leaned toward Ford and whispered, "Looks like Mickey Mouse to me." The young lieutenant grinned back at him.

"That is beautiful," Teyla said with a warm smile, oblivious to both Sheppard's comment and the glare he'd earned from McKay.

"Indeed it is," Dania replied. "Now, enough chatter. Come join the Festival! The Wise Women will want to meet you."

Teyla, Ford, and Rodney followed Dania toward a large red tent. Sheppard brought up the rear, mulling over what he had just learned. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of a culture that worshipped a Destroyer goddess… they could justify a lot of things in the name of this Ratamah.


	3. Chapter 2

The red tent was occupied by three elderly women seated around a small fire, chanting.

Exotic incense filled the air, making Sheppard's headache even worse, but he didn't want to offend by complaining.

Unfortunately, McKay was not so inhibited. He sniffed the air cautiously, then asked in a semi-panicked voice, "What are they burning? Is that incense? I'm highly allergic to certain types of–"

Sheppard was in no mood to put up with him. "Shut up, Rodney," he muttered, elbowing the scientist in the side.

Dania bowed low as the three venerable ladies stood and turned as one to face the group. "Eminent Mothers, may I present visitors: John Sheppard, Teyla Emmagan, Aiden Ford, and Rodney McKay."

"Just know that it's your fault if my lungs close off and I stop breathing!" McKay hissed so only Sheppard would hear. The major pretended not to.

One of the Wise Women spoke. "Blessings be upon you, friends. Welcome to our fair land, and our glorious celebration!"

"Uh… thank you," Sheppard replied guardedly. He was very surprised at how well this first contact was going, but not for a moment did he forget what had happened when they had met the Genii.

But, apparently, the rest of the team did not share his apprehensions. Teyla was smiling broadly, and not even McKay looked at all uneasy, for all that he'd complained about the incense.

Sheppard's head was pounding so hard he could barely hear the rest of the Wise Women's formal greeting. He caught their names – Maira, daughter of Korah; Areli, daughter of Matah; and Tirica, daughter of Ratamah – but not much else. It took an enormous amount of concentration just to think about anything but the pain in his head. After a moment, he noticed that everyone else had sat down, and, as he was the only one still standing, were staring at him expectantly. He hastily dropped to the ground, part of a wide circle around the fire.

Ford, seated beside him, leaned over and whispered, "Are you all right, sir?"

Sheppard waved off his concerns. "I'll be fine… just gotta get used to the incense, that's all."

The younger man looked dubious, but did not question him.

The conversation that followed was relaxed, casual, but definitely controlled by the Wise Women. "I could not but notice that you do not know the ritual greeting," Mother Areli said. "Where do you come from, that you do not know our ways?"

"We are from the city of Atlantis, on another planet, a world that circles one of the many stars in the sky," Teyla replied.

"Atlantis?" Mother Maira demanded. "The Holy City of Korah?"

"They arrived through Ratamah's Gate!" Dania blurted out.

Mother Tirica inhaled sharply. "Is this true?" she demanded of Sheppard.

"Huh? Uh, yes," the major replied. He'd been concentrating on keeping the headache at bay – without much success – and had almost missed the question.

"We are peaceful explorers," Teyla explained, trying to soothe the Mothers' understandable alarm. "We wish only to get to know you, to learn about your culture."

The Wise Women relaxed, but only slightly. "But that does not change the fact that you came to us through Ratamah's Gate," Mother Tirica said. She closed her eyes and intoned something under her breath. "Yes," she continued sadly, "One of you has been Touched by the Triune Mother."

Dania gasped, and the statement cut through Sheppard's mental haze like a double-edged sword. "What, you mean the little streaks of light swirling around by the 'Gate?"

"That is indeed how She appears to us," Mother Tirica said gravely.

"Little streaks of light? What are you talking about?" McKay asked.

"Yeah, I didn't see anything," Ford said.

Teyla simply stared at him.

Maybe he was reading too much into it, but Sheppard could have sworn he saw accusation in their faces, resentment that he hadn't told them about his odd experience. A shiver ran through him despite the warmth of the fire. "When I came through the Stargate, there were these little glowy things flying around, and one of them went right through me. The rest scattered when you guys got here and the 'Gate shut down." He shrugged. "I thought it was a trick of the light. I mean, The light from the 'Gate looks like sunlight reflecting off water, so it's got that weird rippling effect. And Teyla clocked me pretty good–" he indicated the angry bruise on the side of his face– "during our sparring match yesterday, so between the two, I thought I was just seeing things."

"It is you, then, who have been Touched," Mother Areli said sadly. "I'm sorry, John." She dipped her hand into one of several bowls that surrounded her, and tossed a handful of fragrant spices onto the fire.

"Sorry?" Sheppard demanded. "For what? What does that mean?"

"We live the age of Ratamah, the Destroyer," Mother Maira explained. "Those who are Touched are Touched by Ratamah, and soon die."


	4. Chapter 3

_The faces of the dead surrounded him; the voices of the dead accused him. "You killed us!" they shrieked. "You unleashed the Wraith upon us! You!"_

"_You don't know what you have done," the voice of the Wraith Keeper hissed above the others. "We are merely the caretakers of those that sleep. When I die, the others will awaken._

"_All of them."_

_The victims of the Wraith screamed at him ceaselessly, their faces contorted in fury… or was it agony? He could not look away, though he desperately wanted to._

_Through the multitude of the slain, watching his torment impassively, he could see Rodney, Ford, Teyla, Elizabeth, Zelenka, Beckett… He cried out to them for help, falling to his knees, pleading. But, one by one, they turned their backs on him. One by one, they abandoned him. One by one, they disappeared._

_He was utterly, completely alone – save the company of the dead. They still surrounded him, still condemned him. There was no forgiveness in their eyes, no matter how he begged._

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Sheppard moaned as he opened his eyes. He suddenly understood what Oedipus must have felt, stabbing his eyes out with pins – the sunlight seemed to spear through his brain.

Sunlight?

With a startled, incoherent cry, he sat bolt upright and surveyed his surroundings – or tried to. He suddenly felt as if someone had shoved a lightsaber through his head, and fell back onto the straw pallet on which he had awakened, gasping, wondering why he was thinking about Greek tragedies and _Star Wars_ at a time like this.

When the pain subsided to a semi-tolerable level, he cautiously propped himself up on his elbows and looked around. He was in a mud-brick house with a thatched roof, the room closed off from the rest of the dwelling with a curtain. The offending sunlight streamed in through the single large window, accompanied by a cool breeze.

He was still dressed, and for that he was grateful. But his clothes still reeked of whatever exotic incense Mother Areli had thrown into the fire, and the smell made him dizzy. Slowly, painfully, he got up and stumbled to the window for a breath of fresh air. His head throbbed, but at least he wasn't about to pass out. He tried to remember what his nightmare had been about, but it had already faded from memory, leaving behind only a vague, aching loneliness, and a hint of a nameless fear.

A gasp and a wet _splat _from the curtained doorway caught him by surprise, and he spun around. Not a good idea – bright, hot lights exploded behind his eyes, and he crashed to his knees. A high-pitched ringing erupted in his ears. When he looked up, Dania was kneeling beside him holding a wet cloth. A darker spot on the floor indicated where she had dropped it.

"You shouldn't be up," she said gently, pressing the cloth to his forehead. It was cool, refreshing. Sheppard found himself leaning into it gratefully. "You have a fever. You must rest."

The major pulled away and staggered to his feet. "I'll be fine," he said, but his voice betrayed him, an unconvincing croak. He cleared his throat and asked, "Where's the rest of my team?"

"They are staying with me as well," Dania replied soothingly, going from kneeling to standing in one smooth motion. "You needn't worry about them. The four of you will be well taken care of."

"What happened?"

"The herbs Mother Areli added to the fire create a smoke that affects only the Touched, making them sleep and causing a fever – as you have, no doubt, noticed – in the hope that perhaps the Triune Mother will withdraw her Touch. I volunteered to house you and your team until…" She trailed off, uncertain how to tactfully end the statement.

"I'm not gonna die, Dania," Sheppard said forcefully. "I can take care of myself."

She shook her head sadly. "They all say that at first, Major."

Sheppard felt a chill. It could have been the fever, but he somehow suspected it wasn't. "What does that mean?"

Dania looked down at the damp cloth in her hands. "You have no idea what it means to be Touched, Major… Within a very few days, one who has been Touched invariably goes insane and commits suicide."

"Great," Sheppard said sarcastically. "That explains why Mother Areli wanted me down and out. But I am _not _suicidal, Dania."

"Few of the Touched are, at first. My son…" Dania's voice caught, but she forced herself to go on. "My son was not. But he succumbed like all the rest."

All of a sudden, Sheppard understood why Dania had taken him and his team in. "I'm very sorry about Aurelius, Dania," he said, "but nothing you can do for me will bring him back. I'm sure you did everything you could to save him."

Movement on the other side of the room caught his eye, and a glance toward the doorway revealed the identity of the newcomer. "Ford."

"Just wanted to see how you were doing, sir," Ford said. "You seemed kinda spaced out last night, and then all of a sudden you just keeled over and wouldn't wake up. Scared us all pretty good."

Maybe he was overreacting, but it sounded like Ford was condescending to him – innocent, guileless Ford, who was a good ten years his junior and his subordinate to boot! Sheppard bristled at the thought. "I'm fine," he ground out through clenched teeth, glaring at the other man.

Ford's eyes widened, and he brought his hands up in surrender. "Whatever you say, sir," he said, and backed out of the room.

Now Dania was looking at him oddly. Good God, was _everyone _judging him?

He had never felt so alone.


	5. Chapter 4

Exasperated, Sheppard brushed past Dania and caught up to Ford. "Lieutenant!" 

Ford stopped and turned around. "Yes, sir?"

"Pack it up," the major ordered. "Tell McKay to dial Atlantis. We're leaving."

"But, sir–"

"That's an _order,_ Lieutenant."

Ford swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."

As Major Sheppard led the team back to the Stargate, Ford watched his angry stride uneasily. He'd been acting very strangely ever since they'd arrived on this planet, and Ford was getting concerned about him. He hoped everything would get straightened out when they got home.

McKay dialed the Gate, and the bright burst of blue energy was nearly washed out against the brilliant sky. The vortex pulled back, but instead of settling into the calmly rippling pool of the event horizon, it dissolved into nothing, and the seven lit chevrons winked out.

Only then did Ford see them, in stark contrast to the dense, shadowy forest behind the 'Gate: eight ribbons of pearly white light, circling just inside the inner ring.

"Okay," he heard Sheppard say. "_Not _my imagination."

The four of them could only stand and watch as the eight lights merged into three, then one. The fused beings (being?) streaked toward Sheppard like the blast of a Wraith stunner. The major barely had time to say, "Not again!" before he was struck between the eyes. Ford caught him before he hit the ground, grunting under his weight – Sheppard was heavier than his slight frame implied. He hung limp in the lieutenant's arms, unconscious or dead… it was hard to tell. Fervently hoping the former, Ford gently lowered his CO to the ground as Teyla and McKay came running.

Ford pressed his fingers to Sheppard's neck, searching for his carotid artery. He couldn't repress a small shiver when he found it directly beneath the large white scar left by the insect they'd encountered on the Wraith home world. The major's pulse was thready and far too fast, but it was there. He was alive. "He's unconscious," Ford reported to the others.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," McKay snapped.

Ford glared at him. "I thought you might like to know that he isn't _dead."_

McKay started to say something, then shut his mouth, the thought having clearly not occurred to him.

"We should take Major Sheppard back to Atlantis," Teyla said.

"I agree. McKay, try to dial us out again."

Seconds later, Ford discovered that they were in serious trouble.

"I can't dial out," McKay said flatly. "The DHD is dead."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

_The Wraith had captured Atlantis because of his failure._

_He had failed to destroy the Hive ship, and now the control room was crawling with Wraith. Cocooned, immobilized against the wall, he was forced to watch as the Queen sucked his friends dry, one by one. Their screams were red-hot knives twisting in his gut, and he screamed with them in frustration, grief, and terror._

_Finally, he was alone – but he was not alone. The Queen had left the bodies piled on the floor in a grotesque heap, and their cries still rang in his ears. Elizabeth's dead eyes stared into his own, pleading. Or accusing…_

_The bodies moved._

_The withered husks that were all that remained of his friends stood and approached him, moving slowly and stiffly, their faces fixed in expressions of unspeakable anguish. What used to be Elizabeth tore away the webs that held him, but instead of freeing him, she drew back her hand and slammed it into his chest, draining his very life, like the Wraith that had killed her. He screamed._

_And screamed._

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

And screamed.

"Major? Major!"

Teyla was calling him, shaking him awake. Sheppard's eyes snapped open, and he gulped a huge lungful of air. His throat was raw, and his head was _pounding. _He squeezed his eyes shut again against the pain, and a moan of agony escaped his lips. Staying awake was a battle, but he remembered this particular nightmare all too well, and was decidedly not interested in a repeat performance.

"He's awake!" he heard Teyla announce to somebody. Distantly, he heard somebody sobbing. Dania? What was she doing here? "Major Sheppard, are you all right?"

"No," he forced out, the barely audible word tearing at his throat like shards of glass. The effort left him dizzy and shaking. Inexplicably, it surprised him that she cared.

Ford piped up from opposite Teyla. "Do you remember what happened, sir?"

Sheppard managed to shake his head slightly. The pain in his head was beginning to recede a little, and he opened his eyes again. They were still on 666.

"We couldn't establish a wormhole back to Atlantis," Ford told him, "and whatever shut down the 'Gate pretty well fried the DHD, too. Probably those little glowy white things – they attacked you after they zapped the Stargate; that's what knocked you out. Then a few minutes ago, you started thrashing around and screaming."

"It was… frightening, to say the least," McKay added.

"It was nothing," Sheppard croaked. "Just a nightmare."

"Yeah, sure." McKay was clearly not convinced.

Sheppard wasn't entirely sure he was, either.


	6. Chapter 5

Sheppard staggered to his feet as the supernova inside his skull dwindled to a mere bonfire, his strength returning as the pain ebbed. For some reason, McKay's trademark sarcasm was suddenly making him angry. He stood for a moment until his breathing and balance steadied, taking the opportunity to scan his surroundings. Dania had once again taken them in – even after he had so rudely stormed out without so much as a thank-you.

He wondered for a moment why she was being so kind to this band of four strangers who had shown up in exactly the same manner as "Ratamah's Wraith demons." Then he heard a little voice in the back of his head, his own voice… but, oddly enough, not his own voice: _She's only being so kind because you_ _look like her son. Listen to her crying. She doesn't know why she's crying, but you do: deep down, she's _terrified _of you. _"Shut up," Sheppard muttered.

"Sir?" Ford was staring at him.

The major shook his head. "Nothing." Nevertheless, he was a bit unnerved. He didn't usually have those kinds of slips – he'd always had better control than that. Even in front of his team. _Especially _in front of his team. Without another word, he left the small room, looking for Dania.

He found her on the other side of the small house, seated on a low chair with her head bowed, her sobs having died down to sniffles. Sheppard squatted on the floor in front of her and looked up into her eyes. They were a rather startling shade of green. Her long black hair fell like curtains on either side of her face, making her look, despite the streaks of gray, ten years younger and infinitely more vulnerable.

She reminded him of his mother.

"Dania?" he said softly. "Can I talk to you?"

Dania took a deep breath and tucked her hair back behind her ears. "What about?'

"The Triune Mother," he replied. "This whole business of being… Touched."

Tears welled up in Dania's emerald eyes, but she blinked them back. "Stories of the Touched go back many thousands of years. The Triune Mother has manifested herself at Ratamah's Gate on the night of the Full Moons for as long as our history can remember. Always, she appears as nine streaks of white light, dancing in a circle. Anyone who walks into that dance is… Touched."

"Yes, but what, _exactly, _does that mean?"

"Our history is divided into three Ages: the Age of Korah, which began nine thousand years ago; the Age of Matah, which began six thousand years ago; and the Age of Ratamah, which began three thousand years ago, and is drawing to a close – three millennia to each Age. In the Age that bears her name, one person of the Triune Mother is the one who guards the Gate."

"So I only ran into a third of this…" What had McKay called it? "…Triple Goddess."

"Correct. You now bear within you a small portion of Ratamah, the Destroyer Crone. If this were the Age of Korah, you would have been Touched by the Creator Virgin." The tears finally spilled down her cheeks, and she looked away. "And you would have lived."

"Hey." Sheppard put a gentle but firm hand on her face, and turned her head to stare into her eyes. "I'm not dead. I'm not going to die."

Dania's mouth moved as if to speak, but no sound came out. She was shaking visibly.

The odd voice at the back of his head spoke up again. _Look what you've done, John. All she can think about when she looks at you is her son. You have no right to ask her for help in this. It will only hurt her more. _"I'm sorry," he said to Dania standing up to leave. "I should never have–"

"No." Dania reached out and took his arm. "Please, stay. If I can help you, then perhaps it will make up for what I couldn't do for Aurelius."

Sheppard nodded and sat down before her once more.

Before continuing her explanation, Dania cocked her head to one side and frowned at him. "I am curious, Major Sheppard – how old are you?"

Sheppard was somewhat startled by the question. "Thirty-five. Why?"

"I just… my son would have been thirty-six this year."

"Really?" That was even more surprising. Dania didn't look more than ten years his senior. "How old are you?" _Brilliant, John. You don't ask a woman her age! God, can't you do _anything _right?_

But Dania was completely unfazed – evidently, women on this planet were less uptight about their ages than on Earth. "Sixty-one. Now, shall I continue?"

"Please."

"According to the ancient texts, the Touched in the Age of Korah looked to the future with the purest kind of hope. They were eternally optimistic, believing firmly in the good inherent in every person. They shared the Triune Mother's divine joy.

"In the Age of Matah, our Mother Preserver, the Touched loved and were loved by everyone. They had no enemies, and were kind and generous to all. They were passionate in everything they did, and were model husbands, wives, and parents. These were people who had seen the Triune Mother's divine love, and could not but imitate it.

"In the present Age of Ratamah, the Touched withdraw from society, alienating themselves from those who used to be their friends with sarcasm and cold words. They become paranoid–"

"–and from there, it's a short hop to insane," Sheppard finished.

Dania nodded. "They are the ones who have seen the Triune Mother's divine wrath, and can no longer find a purpose in life."

Sheppard raised his eyebrows. "Well, then, this should make you feel better: I didn't see a damn thing."

"You do not understand. You cannot see the Triune Mother with your eyes, but only with your heart."

_Mystical mumbo-jumbo. _"Of course," Sheppard sighed, more than a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice. "Of course."


	7. Chapter 6

Dania looked like she was going to start crying again. Taking a deep breath, Sheppard had to make a conscious effort to unclench his jaw to speak. "Look, I'm sorry, I… I'm sorry." _That's the second time you've had to apologize to her in the last five minutes! You really are pathetic, you know that? _He was surprised at how cynical his own thoughts were.

Then he realized.

It was starting.

No, not starting. His mind flashed back on everything he'd said, done, or thought since he'd arrived on this planet and been Touched. It had _started _last night. "Dania," he said slowly, "How long…"

She closed her eyes, the lashes wet with tears. "One more day. Perhaps two."

The major was stunned speechless. He only had _two more days _to beat this thing, and she hadn't thought to _tell _him? And now that he thought of it, why hadn't his team said something to him about his behavior over the past eighteen hours? Shouldn't his _friends _have noticed that he was going _insane, _and at least expressed a little _concern?_ "Dania, what the hell happened last night?" he demanded breathlessly.

Dania opened her eyes again, and something that looked like a sudden epiphany shone through them. "I have not been… completely honest with you, Major."

_Surprise, surprise. _"Go on."

"The Wise Women revealed a secret to me last night. They said I would know when to tell you – when it became evident that you were the one who would save us.

"There is more in the texts about the Ages than I told you. Each one marks a different stage in the cycle of human life on this planet. The Age of Korah began with the creation of the world, and in those three thousand years, we grew from our collective infancy, so to speak, into a mature, flourishing culture. It was a time of growth. In the Age of Matah, the growth leveled off, and we prospered, content. In this, the Age of Ratamah, we are in decline. Many of our people grow disillusioned, rejecting the Triune Mother, scorning the Wise Women, Her daughters. You were present for a portion of the Festival of the Full Moons – what you saw was only a shadow of its former glory, if the texts are to be believed. Our culture, firmly based as it is in our religion, is slowly disappearing. When the present Age ends, we will be destroyed so Korah may begin the cycle again.

"But the texts also suggest a way to avoid destruction. Matah will send an Avatar through the Gate–"

Sheppard held up one hand. "Hang on a second. I thought these were historical texts, albeit with a religious spin… So you're saying they're more like your version of the Bible? Complete with a Book of Revelations of its own?"

Frowning, Dania said slowly, "If by that you mean that the texts prophesize as well as record, then yes."

Sheppard sighed. "Great." _You can say that again. You don't even believe in your own people's God; why should you trust the "words" of an alien deity?_

"As I was saying," Dania continued, "the prophecy says that Matah will send an Avatar through the Gate who will preserve us, as She Herself protected us from the Wraith."

"And you think I'm this… Avatar?"

"I have no way of knowing. The Wise Women, however, knew the instant they met you. You _must _find a way to communicate with Ratamah, to intervene on Matah's behalf. You are the last hope for our people."

Sheppard bowed his head in defeat. "Dania… I can't help you. I don't know what to do. How can I contact a Goddess I don't even believe in?"

"Whether you believe or not makes no difference!" Dania snapped. The fire in her voice startled Sheppard, and he looked up at her once more. "You have had nightmares since arriving here, yes?"

"Well, yes, but I had nightmares in Atlantis, too!"

"But these have been different. Vivid. They strike a terror into your heart that you cannot shake, for reasons you cannot explain." Her expression softened. "It is Ratamah speaking to you. It is your objectivity, your skepticism, that will allow you to speak to _Her_. Such communication can only be done in a state of sleep – that is what the Eminent Mothers were trying to accomplish when they drugged you. I don't understand why it didn't work. Perhaps it is because you distrust us. Please, let me take you to the Wise Women. Under their guidance, you cannot fail. I beg you, please, help us."

Sheppard was momentarily overwhelmed by the desperation in her plea. Finally, he said, "I will do everything I can."

Overjoyed, Dania stood and pulled Sheppard to his feet. "Oh, may the Triune Mother bless you! Perhaps She will even spare your life… and then maybe Aurelius will rest in peace."

She chattered on as she led him from her home to the red tent. But Sheppard heard none of it ­– she'd just reminded him of one little detail he'd nearly forgotten…


	8. Chapter 7

Mother Areli politely but firmly banished Dania from the tent, then took her place between Mother Maira and Mother Tirica by the fire. She motioned for Sheppard to sit opposite them.

"Most revered Triune Mother, we bring before you your Avatar, sent to save us," Mother Maira intoned. It suddenly occurred to Sheppard that if these people's faith had as many parallels to Earth religions as McKay seemed to think, they might be preparing to sacrifice him to their Goddess. He remembered what Dania had said – _perhaps She will even spare your life. _Despite the warmth of the fire, he broke out in a cold sweat.

His fears were all but confirmed when Mother Tirica reached across the fire and grabbed his wrist, holding it over the flames and producing a small bone knife. "Hey!" he protested, and tried to twist free of the old woman's grip.

But her hand was like steel, and he could no more break loose than he could put out the fire by spitting on it. In a swift slashing motion, Mother Tirica brought the knife down –

– making only a shallow cut across the palm of his hand. Immensely relieved, he let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Mother Tirica squeezed his arm even harder, if that was possible, and Sheppard hissed as blood dripped into the fire. It stung like hell.

Mother Tirica bound up the wound, not speaking until she had released him. Sheppard rubbed his wrist as circulation restored itself, listening as the Wise Woman called upon her Goddess-mother. "Divine Mother, accept this offering of the Avatar's wise blood, and speak to him, that through him you might save our people."

_Wise blood? _Sheppard didn't know nearly as much about ancient mythology as Dr. Jackson back on Earth, or even as much as McKay, but he _had _taken a class or two on it in college, and he knew that term. It was one of the central mysteries of the ancient Goddess religions… He could only wonder what this ceremony would have entailed had the "Avatar" been a woman.

Come to think of it, he really didn't want to know.

Hoping there were no more surprises in store, Sheppard tried to relax, taking a deep, calming breath – just as Mother Tirica threw a small amount of incense on the fire, sending up a cloud of pungent smoke. He coughed, trying not to pass out as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

"Do not fight it," Mother Tirica said. "Close your eyes and breathe deeply. Listen for the voice of Ratamah."

It took an enormous effort of will to keep from choking, but the urge to cough up a lung eventually passed. The dizziness, however, only got worse, until he felt as if he were floating in empty space.

He saw images.

_He stalked the halls of Atlantis, purposeful, determined. He was hungry. The hunt had been most enjoyable, but now it was time to feast. There would be time enough later for the triumphant march to Earth. Victory was assured. His people would never go hungry again!_

_The prisoners huddled in a cage, the alcoves in which to cocoon them not yet constructed. Elizabeth looked up and saw him coming, her relief palpable. She called out to him to release them. Hearing her voice, the other prisoners turned to stare at him with hope in their eyes._

_They didn't realize what he'd become._

_Pitiful._

_He threw open the door of the cage, and allowed his men to enter first. The prisoners shrank back, terrified, confused. He watched with a smile as they slaughtered the humans. Desiccated corpses piled higher and higher in the far corner, and red blood ran freely, staining the floor. The cloying, coppery stench was overwhelming._

_Then he stopped one of his underlings, pulling him away from the human on whom he was about to feed. "No," he hissed. "She is _mine." _He grinned down at his prize._

_She cowered before him, bound hand and foot, beaten, bloody. Broken. She knelt on the floor, too weak to stand. It was tragic, really, to see such a strong, spirited woman reduced to such abject helplessness. Teyla shrieked in agony and betrayal as he pressed his hand to her chest – the hand of a Wraith._

"No!" Sheppard's eyes snapped open and he shot to his feet. Or tried to – still off-balance, he swayed and crashed unceremoniously to the ground on his butt. The hilt of the knife he wore at the small of his back dug painfully into his spine. He collapsed forward, bracing himself with the fingers of his wounded hand, rubbing the new bruise with the other. This was _not _going well. "What the hell was that?" he gasped.

"Ratamah speaks," Mother Tirica said ominously. "You must answer."


	9. Chapter 8

Still panting for air – God, that smoke was thick – Sheppard straightened and closed his eyes again. _What do you want? _he thought.

And Ratamah answered, her voice booming in his head.

_**To know. We have studied the people of this planet for millennia, and yet our analyses have only just begun.**_

There was only one voice, despite the use of the plural. And it was not female, either – the major could not, in fact, assign it… them… a gender. _Who are you?_

_**We no longer need to name ourselves. But when we were flesh and blood, like you, we called ourselves Cnisomians. We are scientists, studying human emotions.**_

Sheppard was astounded. _Emotions?_

_**Yes. We hope that by studying you emotions in both their mental and physiological aspects, we will come to better understand our own. We have been experimenting for nearly ten thousand years.**_

_But don't you see what you're doing to these people? _Sheppard demanded. _There is a woman out there whose entire life was destroyed nine years ago, when her son committed suicide because of your experiments! These people's entire way of life is collapsing! They think you're their Goddess…es… and that you're about to destroy them! And you know what? I think they're right about that last part!_

When he was met only with impassive silence, he appealed to their hunger for knowledge. _Who will you experiment on then? Who will you learn from?_

_**We will find another civilization to study. Through the Stargate, the entire galaxy is open to us.**_

Dimly, Sheppard felt his jaw clench in anger. _Well, aren't we the superior race. The galaxy as your laboratory? You guys are worse than the Ancients._

**_We _are _the superior race! _**The Cnisomians roared. **_You think us arrogant because you do not understand! We are far more enlightened than you will ever be! You are _insects _compared to us!_**

_And so you squash us like insects, _Sheppard replied, seething. _Is that what happened to Aurelius and all the other Touched in the past three thousand years? Did they try to communicate with you, to challenge you? Did you tweak their emotions just enough to send them over the edge? How can you bunch of _murderers _call yourselves "enlightened"?_

_**We do not murder! If we must kill, we kill in the name of science! Do your people not do the same?**_

We _don't kill sentient beings! It's completely different!_

_**It is no different! Sacrifices must be made to further knowledge! If the people of this planet are destroyed in the process, then so be it!**_

Sheppard was growing desperate. _In a sense, you've destroyed them already – if what Dania told me is true, their spirit is completely broken. You've already robbed them of their innocence; don't take anything else from them. _He was surprised at the note of pleading that crept into his thoughts.

_**We do not understand.**_

Sheppard gave the mental equivalent of a sigh. _Of course you wouldn't. It's a human thing. Just… back off. Observe from a distance, if you must, but don't mess with their heads._

The Cnisomians were stubborn. **_That would be most inefficient._**

_Just because your way is efficient doesn't make it _right! _Please, _he begged, _let these people live._

For a moment, he thought he had failed. He could feel the Cnisomians' resolve… which melted into indecision… and finally evaporated into logical agreement. Suddenly, their presence vanished altogether, and Sheppard felt a great weight lift from his mind. He opened his eyes. The fire had gone out, the smoke had dissipated, and the Wise Women were staring at him expectantly. "Did you succeed?" Mother Areli asked.

Sheppard's throat felt scratchy, and he swallowed. "Yeah, I think so."

"The Mother's Touch is gone," Mother Tirica said. "Ratamah will not destroy us." She stared into his eyes. "But She told you something else."

"Yes, but you don't need to–"

"Tell us," Mother Maira commanded.

"No, really, I don't think I should–"

Mother Areli cut him off imperiously. "You _will _tell us the words of the Goddess!"

Sheppard gave up trying to spare them. "Just… don't shoot the messenger, okay?"

The Wise Women stared at him quizzically.

Sheppard waved off the unspoken question. "Never mind. The truth is…" He took a deep breath. He was about to disprove their entire way of life – to do exactly what he had begged the Cnisomians not to. _Hypocrite! _The word echoed in his head, drowning out his thoughts. "There is no Triune Mother," he finally said with a sigh. They _had, _quite literally, asked for it. "What you see by the Gate, what causes the Touched to behave the way they do, is a bunch of non-corporeal aliens who are studying your emotions because they don't understand their own."

The three Wise Women were silent for a long moment. Then Mother Areli demanded, "You speak the truth?"

Sheppard nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry." He stood and walked out of the tent, their agonized wails following him down the road, chilling his bones.

He didn't see Dania until she was right beside him. "Major Sheppard, what happened? Will Ratamah spare us? Will she spare _you?"_

He stopped and turned to face her, staring into her eyes, those beautiful green eyes that were so much like his mother's. "In a sense," he said softly. "They… She's not going to kill anyone." He stopped himself before adding, _Directly._

He'd done enough damage already.

"I have to go home, Dania."

Tears welled up in the older woman's eyes. She reached out and embraced him as if he were her long-dead son, and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodbye, John," she whispered, "and thank you. You have saved our people – and me as well."

_No, I haven't. _Sheppard pulled away from her, choking on tears of his own that he could allow no one to see. "I don't deserve your gratitude."

He left her to gather his team and return to the Stargate. McKay had repaired the DHD, and all that was left to do was leave this planet behind. Physically, anyway. He would always carry with him the guilt of what he had done here.

Through him, Ratamah had indeed destroyed this world.


	10. Epilogue

Major John Sheppard stood on his favorite balcony on the edge of the city of Atlantis. A stiff breeze ruffled his hair, and not a single star shone from the overcast sky. The ocean churned restlessly, a dark, ghostly gray. A marginally brighter spot in the clouds marked where the moon should have been.

He was alone for the first time since his team had returned from M3X-666. In a sense, though, he had always been alone. People had been congratulating him all day for saving that godforsaken – goddess-forsaken? – planet. Only Elizabeth had seemed to understand what he'd actually done, but she'd downplayed it, trying to lift his spirits by focusing on the physical lives he'd saved. She didn't want to see him so upset.

That should have made him feel better, to know that she cared. But tonight, staring out into all that gray emptiness, it struck him as selfishness on her part. She wanted him to put on a brave face, for _her. _Oh, sure – to be fair, she was probably thinking of the morale of the expedition. To see the ranking military officer in such a pathetic state would scare a lot of people. He had an _image _to maintain.

John sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. Was that really all he was to these people? The _ranking military officer?_ The thought was painful, but true. The only person in this city who called him by his first name was Elizabeth – sometimes. Most of the time, though, he was just "Major Sheppard." How many people in Atlantis even _knew _his first name? Was he destined to be an outcast… forever? The prospect loomed before him, burning with the heat of a sun. Maybe that was what hell was like.

The ocean lapped at the edges if the city below, the sound capturing his attention. It beckoned, promising an enveloping coolness as kind as Dania's gentle ministrations – but at the same time, ensuring that he would disappear without a trace, with only an ephemeral ripple to mark his passing. No – somehow, he would atone for what he'd done. Or die trying. The people of that planet deserved at least that much.

God, the place didn't even have a name – just a meaningless alphanumeric designation. It seemed almost disrespectful to refer to it as "M3X-666." It did no justice to the rich culture, the history, the kind and peaceful people… The shame finally overwhelmed him, and the first tear slid down his cheek. His knees buckled, and he slid to the floor, silently sobbing.

Nobody knew. Nobody would ever know. He couldn't let them see him like this… He really was alone. In a city of hundreds, he was alone.

The clouds parted, and the light of the full moon fell across his trembling shoulders like a mother's comforting touch.


End file.
